Nobody's Home A VincentxTifa Songfic
by XxX.Alone-4eva-Solita.XxX
Summary: A earlier story of mine. Vincent walks into the bar early one night to a shocking sight. Oneshot. Sounds better than my usual sucky summary lets on. Reviews welcome, but be gentle. Enjoy!


**A/N: Sorry if Vincent is out of character... or Tifa for that matter... this is an early fic of mine... Reviews welcome, just be gentle with them.  
**

_I couldn't tell you,  
Why she felt that way,  
She felt it everyday._

Vincent watched Tifa Lockhart while she bustled around the bar from his back booth in the shadows. Her customers spilled their stories on her, problems, excitements, everything, while she listened intently, offering her comfort for them while she worked. Her customers didn't know what Vincent knew. They didn't know that Cloud had just left her, saying he'd never loved her, and was only using her as a comeback relationship after Aeris, his true love. Now he was back out, trying to find his 'true love' and bring her back from the Lifestream. They didn't know that Tifa had lost everything in the fire in Niblehiem. They didn't know her life like Vincent did.

_I couldn't help her,  
I just watched her make,  
The same mistakes again._

She just let them spill everything on her, and she remembered everything everyone said. Vincent had seen this in action. On more than one occasion, a man (of which his name he didn't catch), came into the bar, upset and distraught, and Tifa knew exactly what had happened from previous instances. It wasn't good for her to carry around all her hurt, without telling someone, let alone everyone else's. But, of course, Vincent couldn't tell her that, he was an outcast of society, and outcasts don't speak up. A monster, he was. Demons inside, exploding out of him sometimes faster than he could stop the transformation. He just couldn't approach her. She was too high up the ladder for him. Until that one night, when he walked into the bar a little earlier than normal, and she was crying.

_What's wrong, what's wrong now?  
Too many, too many problems.  
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs._

It shocked Vincent to see her like this. Tifa, who was normally so strong, was bawling. Similiarly to a baby who has had its bottle stolen from it. Just full out sobbing. Tifa, who was normally so happy looking while at the bar, was crying with her head on the bar counter. Hesitently, he walked up to her shaking form. "Tifa?..." She jumped at his voice, looking up at him, her eyes puffy and red, her beautiful skin tear-stained.

"H-hello, Vincent," she stuttered, putting on a happy face for the gunman, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, sniffing one more time, before finishing her usual greeting; "Some red wine for ya?"

"Tifa... are you alright?" Vincent was concerned. He'd never seen her break-down before like that, except for when Aeris died, and after Meteor.

"Yeah...I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern Vince."

"I don't call sobbing on your bar counter, 'fine'. Tifa... what's wrong?"

"Oh, Vincent..." She trailed off, her eyes meeting his as they filled with tears.

"Tifa... tell me..."

"Everything's wrong. Cloud's gone, and he never cared. People here don't care, I'm just here for a service... Life's wrong, Vincent," she whimpered, coming out from behind the counter and throwing herself in the stool next to where he was standing, begining to sob again.

_She's wants to go home,  
But nobody's home.  
Its where she lies,  
Broken inside,  
There's no place to go, no place to go,  
To dry her eyes, broken inside._

She just wanted someone to care, someone who would love her, and be there. Since Cloud left, she didn't have anyone like that. 'Really, I guess she didn't have anyone at all. Cloud never cared, he'd said so. Damned man. He's broke her with his stupidity and greediness. There's no one there to dry her tears anymore. No one for her to call on when she's in over her head, no one for her to scream at when she needs it. Oh Tifa... what has he done to you?'

_Open your eyes,  
And look outside,  
Find the reasons why.  
You've been rejected,  
And now you can't find,  
What you've left behind._

A body against Vincent's broke his thoughts. She had thrown herself against him and was sobbing and screaming into his chest, her arms above her head, resting near his collarbone. Shocked, Vincent held her close to himself, stroking her hair gently, and in a few minutes she calmed down again. "Vincent?...Do you think anyone would care if I just died tonight?... Do you think people would care more than just that they wouldn't be getting their drinks anymore?..." she whispered into his crimson cloak. He couldn't answer. She wasn't at all like the Tifa he knew before Cloud left. She wasn't happy, she was on the verge of suicidal. "Vincent?... Would you care?"

"...Tifa..."

_Be strong, be strong now.  
Too many, too many problems.  
Don't know where she belongs, where she belongs._

"Tifa..." He was finding it hard to get anymoe than her name out. 'God, Vincent... why couldn't Hojo have made you immune to a woman's touch?' Her tiny hands played with you tattered cloak, and she was still crying softly. "Tifa... I'd care... a lot... just... don't... do it... I'll... help you through it all... stay with me here, Tifa..."

"Vincent..." She got his name out before she began to sob again, hands clutching his ebony hair and cloak on his back.

_Her feeling she hides,  
Her dreams she can't find,  
She's losing her mind,  
She falling behind,  
She can't find her place,  
She's losing her faith,  
She's falling from grace,  
She's all over the place._

She let everything she had held inside out on him; broken dreams, shattered hearts, rejectedness, lost hope, troubles, and pain. She spilled on him everything she had held inside, and as the river of pain and brokenness dried up, she fell asleep leaning on his slightly toned chest.

_She's wants to go home,  
But nobody's home.  
Its where she lies,  
Broken inside,  
There's no place to go, no place to go,  
To dry her eyes, broken inside._

There would be a place for her to go now. She could come to him. She could spill everything on Vincent, and he'd listen and help. He would be her support through her hurt. She wasn't the strong Tifa anymore, at least not when she as around him, and after that night, she often spent her evenings off in his arms, sobbing or screaming, letting it out. There was a place for her to go, a place to dry her tears. She was still broken, but Vincent held the glue-gun and tape ready.


End file.
